Hush, For You Tell Lies
by theholychesse
Summary: Holly is busting an experimental facility in Opal Kobai's control. One of the experiments there, a boy with blue eyes, spews nonsense and mathematical formulas. But he does not say what happened. When Kobai is asked she smiles and says, "He is our prized one."
1. Chapter 1

**(Disclaimer. I don't own Artemis Fowl in any way, shape or form. It belongs to Eion Colfer)**

Holly Short of the LEPrecon unit raised her gun at the pixie in front of her. Opal Kobai smirked in return.

This was the bust of a fairy and mudman experimental base, led by the pixie right in front of her. She was the leading innovator of technology alongside Foaly. Holly was growing tired of these big villains, first the mudboy, Artemis Fowl, who kidnapped her, then Opal.

"Hands up." Holly commanded. Opal did so. From behind Holly came half a dozen LEP officers who led the pixie away. Holly then inspected the room briefly and walked away, to explore the laboratory better.

She soon got to the experiment's rooms. Most of the work done here, according to their sources, was testing of fairy and human DNA. Enhancement of senses, body and brain function as well as expanding of magic was happening here. But they were not the only things, sewing of new boy parts, torture and live dissections happened here too. Most of the subjects that the LEP already found simply were traumatized by being kidnapped, nothing more. They hadn't found any live humans yet.

She entered a corridor with few doors in it. Most of them were labs, and a few experimentation rooms. She could see human blood in one, with several bloodied instruments in it. A table with as it seems gallons of blood was in the center.

The last room was at the very end. On it was a sign in Gnomish that said 'Subject 44'.

She opened the door slowly and almost gasped. The walls were mostly brown with dried blood, but patches of red stood out.

In the corner of the room, the place most coloured by life juices, sat a boy with big, blue eyes and a happy smile.

….

He wonders what they will do to him today. Will they add extra eyes to his head or a loin's mane? That would be interesting, he thinks.

He hears steps, Blana Military Brand, size 7 fairy, guessing from the sound the fairy weighs no more than 100 pounds. Military he thinks, now why would they come?

Anyway, time to greet the fairy. His mother always told him to smile when he met someone. Plastering a happy grin he looked at the door, from which a female fairy walked out from.

…

(**New story! I hope you like it. If you can't guess who the boy I can't blame you.)**


	2. Chapter 2, A Horse's Brief Anger

Holly looked at the boy in pity. She lowered her gun and slowly walked to the boy who cocked his head to the right, smile still on his face. She kneeled down, nose to nose to the boy. His face was dirty with blood and other fluids and his dirty, but still fluffy hair, was over almost one half of his face. He wore a strait- jacket of sorts, lots of straps, with lots of blood.

He seemed familiar, but the dirt and hair stopped her from fully recognizing him. She keep staring at those eyes, they were of the bluest blue, of the morning sea, of the most beautiful sapphire. Webs of icy blue and of white were encircling a small pupil. The eyes were glowing somewhat, she thought.

"Hi, we're going to get you out." She said softly. The boy's eyebrows rose in confusion.

"Yeah we are. Can you stand up for me?" She said, backing away a bit. The boy put one foot in front of him and clumsily stood up, still gazing at Holly. Holly put her hand on his shoulder and began walking out of the room.

She soon walked to the outside where an ambulance was waiting. When she got into better light she saw his features better.

He had small cuts and bruises on his face and bare legs, which were hairless meaning that the boy was extremely young for this, hell no one could be old enough for whatever he went through. She just noticed the length of his hair, reaching to his knees actually. He must have been growing them out all his life. Her hair never managed to grow quickly, it took a year for 4 inches to grow.

She walked to a nurse and nodded. The sprite led the boy into the car, his eyes never straying from hers.

As he walked away from view she heard the screech of a LEP vehicle's wheels. Her ride.

…..

Foaly was a centaur. Half horse and half man. He took the brains of the man but the temper of a horse, and currently it was full blown.

The reason of his anger was the stupidity of one of his assents. The sprite knocked over one of his screens which was downloading data from the laboratories by Koboi. He only got the newest files.

He was on the very newest file that of the mudboy Holly found in a bloodied room. He crosschecked the boy's face in all his data bases, to see who he is.

He got one result. He pulled it up and leaned back into his chair in shock. He slowly turned his rotating chair to the com, his face slack, all remains of anger completely gone, and dialed Commander Root. Then he dialed Holly.

…..

Holly was waiting, in the very apt called waiting room. She was waiting for the boy that she found. Foaly had not found out his name.

Her earpiece suddenly buzzed back to life, well speak of the devil.

"What do you have for me Foaly?" She asked.

"Holly, well you know the boy you found?" Holly's eyes went to the opening door, the boy was coming out, all cleaned up and hair combed, she looked at the all to familiar face.

"Well his name is-"

"Artemis Fowl." Holly said blankly, the boy locked his to blue eyes with her's and gave a lopsided grin.

(**Sorry that is the only update today, I spent 4 hours being forced by my sister to shop. I then dyed my hair, fed my snake and had to show off the clothes to my mom. I simply did not have the time.)**


	3. Chapter 3, Madness

"You're… you're…you're MAD!"

"Everyone's mad, just some more than others."

"Yes we are mad."

"WE ARE NOT!"

"Calm yourself, Artemis. We do not lie, for what do we gain from that?"

"Yes, everything is gone, Artemis."

"Your home" Fowl Manor, a grey fortress up in flames.

"Your virginity" Butlar what are you doing? Butlar STOP!

"Your heart" Did he have one to begin with?

"Your mind" He had such a wonderful mind. He has it, but it is broken, like his body and soul.

"And your hope" Hope comes in the form of a raven.

"CARRRR! CARRRR!" It crows.

Mad is he? Heh, he supposes we are, he thought dryly.

…

The Tale of the Ravens.

Ravens charm, they sing sweet tales and weave trust.

Ravens lie, they whisper tall tales and give false comfort.

Ravens steal, what they take you can't get back.

Ravens break, with tools and stones they break the bones.

Ravens feast, on the flesh and on the soul.

The child is gone.

….

They say the raven was once white.

But it gave fire to man, making it's feather's black.

What they didn't say was that the raven made the flame from a child's pain.

…

He sat in the house of Ravens for 15 years. He was out of time and out of mind. The Ravens come with their midnight coats and stick needles in his heart made of gears and wires. It ticks and it tocks, but it never just stops.

….

Clicky clok, goes the clock, ticky tock, it never stops.

The ravens come, the ravens breathe, the ravens seethe, and the ravens heave.

They bring their drums and smack them back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

The ravens go up to him, him in the dark brown/red corner and whisper words of the outside world.

Years ago he would perk up and listen, anything to get him out of the emptiness in his world. Today he would listen and smile and kill the ravens.

Mommy Raven was did not care, as long as he made progress, for he was her favorite jewel.

Ravens did like shiny things.

…..

Is the lady that was looking at him distrustfully a raven? She had the ears of and the beak, but her eyes where that of a dove, not of the ravens.

Should he tell?

No, he lies, ravens lie and so does he.

Hush, Mommy Raven would say, pulling away some of his raven-black hair away.

Hush, for you tell lies.


	4. Chapter 4, Ah, He Has Not

Opal sat in the dark grey interrogation room, looking at her cut nails intently. Holly upon hearing the identity of the mudboy had practically teleported to Opal for answers. She sat at the other side of the metal table, facing Opal.

"Why did you have Artemis Fowl as one of your experimentees?" Holly asked, calm and professional on the outside but screaming with anger and frustration in her brain.

Opal just looked at Holly's hazel eyes and smirked, returning her gaze to her nails.

"Can you answer me?" Holly pressed, a dark gleam entered Opal's eyes.

"He was a partially gifted human, was he not?" The dark haired woman purred, her chocolate brown eyes twinkling.

"Was?" Holly asked, she had actually gotten information! Other interrogators had tried, but failed.

"Do you not see him now? His brilliant mind seems to have taken a holiday." Opal said, staring at Holly, nails forgotten.

"Holiday? Is that what you call experimentation?' Holly said.

"It seems to have taken just that, but it has not. It is there."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Short, may I ask why you have taken such an interest in the boy? Surely you must have been holding his dead corpse by now, taken your history with him."

"First I need answers."

"Has he spoken of the Ravens?" Holly looked quizzingly at the pixie genius.

"The what?"

"Ah, he has not. I will not answer any following questions until he does." And with that Opal once again looked at her nails.

Holly tried many tactics to get her to talk, with in LEP protocols of course, but none making the genius speak.

She stood up, leaving behind the pixie.

….

He sat, his legs swinging-ing up and down. He was in a soft white room, clean. Different from his last room, cold biting metal it was.

He could see that they had a camera here, why he wonders? What do they need of him? Their friends already looked at everything he has.

Drawing.

That's what he feels like doing.

Crayons.

They're good. Consist mainly of 18:1 (6%), 20:1 (35%) and 22:1 (7%) fatty acids linked to 20:1 (22%), 22:1 (21%) and 24:1 (4%) fatty alcohols.

Oh chemistry, it's good.

But he doesn't have any, how about a poem?

"Mr. Man, Tis his name, he's the one who spilled the oil can that made me lame." He composed, he didn't say it though.

Quiet.

Mommy Raven would say.

Quiet.

Bones Ravens would say as they poured lava into his veins.

Quiet.

They others would say in his ears from the inside out.

Inside out….

He shivered, pulling up his legs and putting his skinny arms around them.

Organs spilling their contents on the floor, ribs waving hello to him, the back of a man's eyes in his inverted skull.

He put his head down, curling into himself.

He didn't like that Raven. He hurt him, like Butlar did a few times. He didn't like it.

_'You'll like it._' The man used to purr. He didn't like it.

Crimson fluid flowing out of his evil mouth, dreadful black eyes staring at the hand in his chest. His mouth agape with screams as he was twisted inside and outside. Ah, _that_ he did like.

They say that those who danced where thought mad by those who could not hear the music, there IS NO MUSIC!

ONLY SOUL WRENCHING MADNESS!

The dark souls of the damned escaping to hell, from him. Their filthy, raven eyes staring at him.

_Enchanted by the eyes of the dead._

_Oh look at that one, enchanted so!_

_The one who had lost his head._

_Do you listen to him crow?_

_The poem._

A clang like the thunder made his head go from up in the stormy clouds falling back to earth.

The woman raven-dove came in and looked at him. He uncurled from the position he had grown to know so well and sat cross legged.

_The poem that cannot be told to anyone but God himself for fear of the end of the world._

_The poem recited at the apocalypse by the mad and the damned. _

_The poem known by all and heard by the mad. The poem feared by demons and whispered by angels._

_The poem is known by all, and told by him._

Hush.

It is not time for that.

He wants crayons.

(**Guys, if you're scared by this, you are not the only ones. I freak myself out too. WHAT IS IN MY MIND, GUYS!? All the poems are made by me and the wax info from a website. Once again, MY POEMS)**


	5. Chapter 5, A Summoning

Holly walked into the white, padded cell of the mudboy, who was looking at her happily, eyes then looked at a hidden point in the wall next to her. She saw a bit of the camera footage when getting here. He had spent the last couple of hours he was here sitting mainly on the bed attached to wall. He was just as small as she remembered, though he did change drastically.

When they met, if you can call it that, his hair was short, shoulder length and smooth, now however it was knee length and extremely fluffy, even though she doubted he got proper hair care in the facility.

His skin, if even humanly possible, had grown even paler since she last saw him, 16 or so years ago. He was still the same age, it would have been nothing if he was fairy, but since he isn't a member of her species, this raised quite a few eyebrows.

Instead of his hellish straitjacket he wore previously, he had a baggy, white, long-sleeved shirt. Similar white, loose pants with no shoes was his attire from the waist down.

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but with him she didn't know. Before, his eyes were like a greedy business man's, gleaming with thirst for riches and power also with a cold factor that made him seem like he had the lack of emotions to help that, but that was the first layer.

She saw it once, when he asked her to cure his mother from madness. It was a deep sadness, a deep wanting, not for riches or power, but for the return of his mother, what she suspected to be one of the only things gave him affection. So it actually hurt her when she didn't improve her condition, permanently at least. Why it hurt she didn't really know, he stole fairy gold, kidnapped her and threated to release knowledge of the fairies to the rest of mankind.

"Artemis Fowl, can you tell me anything about your time in the facility you were in." He smiled even more but kept silent.

"Fowl?" She pressed, the mudboy's gaze finally went to her eyes and he softly spoke,

"In which way do I resemble a bird?" It was very soft and quiet, though it had a certain edge to it which sent bad signals in Holly's brain.

"Can you answer my previous question?" she asked harshly, Fowl did not respond to that tone.

"How about mine, miss unknown bird." Deciding to change tactics she said,

"It is your name, Artemis Fowl." His grin dropped.

"I was not aware of that." He spoke.

"But you did not answer my question, in which way do I resemble a bird?" He asked, lips turning up to their old position. How would Holly answer? He clearly didn't respond to any old simple questions, so she has to play along, to her displeasure.

"You resemble a bird, partially a raven, since you are greedy for shiny things." She only realized she talked about ravens after she said that. Maybe if he would talk about the blasted bird se could actually get answers from Koboi?

"A fine eye you have, but one that lies." He said.

"For Ravens do like shiny things and I do resemble them, it is not in the way you speak of." He said. Tilting his head to the side, as if hearing something unheard to Holly, he smiled even wider.

"I would think it wise to pick it up." He said, seconds after she got an urgent call from Foaly, saying that she was needed in his computer lair thing. Looking up with shock at the mudboy she was greeted with a grin that stretched ear to ear plastered on his face.

"After this I would think it would be in your interests to visit Mother Raven." He said. Holly rushed out quickly, trying not to miss that urgent summoning, though she wanted to stay and question the boy until he spilt everything he knew.

'Miss, then you would go mad.' Artemis thought, reading her thoughts, she was an interesting not-raven, and apparently she knew him outside of the house of Ravens. That was nice.

He stared at the ceiling, counting all the microscopic threads and molecules in it.

He was Mommy Raven's favorite creation for a reason.

(**So Artemis can read people's minds! What other tricks does he have up his sleeve? He must since he is Artemis Fowl, and he never runs out of tricks and skills.)**


	6. Chapter 6, Beauty

Hop. Hop. Hop.

A young giggle.

Hop. Hop. Hop.

Fall. The lack of a young sob.

Only laughing of others.

…

The young boy stood, stoically at his mother's grave. No sadness or happiness, simply no emotions. Gray painted the faces of all the others here. Dull grey, these people were boring, undeserving. They only wanted their unimportant names in the will.

The last one of the Fowl bloodline, he was. Father, dead. Mother, dead. Uncle that he didn't even know existed, dead.

Just him.

Tears glisten on the other's faces. Fake as the jewels around their fingers and necks. He was among total strangers. Juliet passed away in a car accident; her boyfriend was drunk at the wheel. Domovi Butler, whose first name he knew only after his death, died, protecting him.

A bird chirped in his ear and a gentle breeze sent goose bumps down his arms. A nearly clear blue sky taunted him with it's cheeriness. Aren't funerals supposed to be rainy, cold days?

He should have known that fate despised him so from the moment he was born, so that he could crawl back to the warm safety of his mother's womb.

A moment passes and he still is empty.

….

He lies on his bed, once with the smell of roses and friendly, now stenched with body fluids and harsh. Blood flowed down his bare legs and dull pain throbbed in his lower abdomen.

The bad Butler walked in with a happy grin and climbed on his bed.

"Another round?"

….

The smell of burning meat makes his nostrils widen, inhaling the literal smell of revenge. The man lay inside the mansion in front of him, joined by the rest of his kind, rats and pests.

His once home, tainted with the misery of a child and the lust of a man is covered with angry red flames. Though to him the flames are kind. Destroying evil and taint.

So marvelous.

He cocked his head to the side, dirty, black hair falling in his face and he grinned, all teeth showing, the bright light from the flames reflected in the boy's dull blue eyes making them seem to light up.

He enjoyed his screams _soooooo_ much.

Revenge has never tasted so sweet.

….

6 months.

So much can happen in that time.

For him he lost everything. Mostly from his own hand.

No regrets.

…

Another man's garbage is another's treasure. It could have never been so true. He thought amid the home he made from cardboard and wood pieces.

…

A tall man walked into his alley, the bastard. Hasn't he already made his statement to the rest here? People don't understand what danger meant.

He growled, an inhuman sound that would make most tremble in their boots, it did not fail this time.

The man stopped and looked around. He grinned.

He grabbed a cruel-looking cleaver and stepped into the light. The man took out a gun and a badge. Police, eh? He was getting famous.

"Police. Put that knife down or I will shoot you. You are under the arrest for the brutal murders of Benjamin Willow, James Fatel, and William Hooter." The boy grinned wider, so they found good old Will's body? Maybe now he would be taken more seriously.

"Let me guess, you people only stepped in with Hooter's death, right?" He asked, voice quiet and menacing. Like the faraway thunder in a hurricane.

"Put down that knife, kid."

"You don't even know my name! My, I did overestimate you people. " The policeman frowned at that.

"If you don't put down that knife I will shoot." The boy slowly advanced. A shoot ran out .

A meaty noise sounded in the dark alley. The boy grinned. The man was a lousy shot, the boy wasn't. Not now at least.

…

Ah, here they gallop.

Glip, glop, glip, glop.

Ah, here they ride.

Eyu, eyu, eyu, eyu.

An MI5 squad tells him to raise his hands. To humor them he did.

They led him away to a cold stone fortress.

…

_ THE BUTCHER DUBLIN CAUGHT AT LAST_

_The Dublin Butcher who has brutally murdered Benjamin Willow,26, James Fatel, 35, William Hooter, 23, Gale Careic, 41, Aoron Becher, 39, Natalie Russman, 32, Serina Train, 19, Weart Xerxes,51, Fasra Gengle, 27, Dubious Serkrat, 29,Tracy Necker, 32, Keckle Fracin, 43,Vada Negiskii, 21, Gerimo Hoffner, 39 and Quartil Jacob, 25, has been caught at last!_

_The Butcher was found on the property of his last victim, Quartil Jacob, with the murder weapon, a Victorinox Cleaver, and gave up without a fight," Grinning like a loon", a MI5 agent at the scene said._

_The Butcher remains unidentified, but is a Caucasian male under the age of 18, as said by the chairman of MI5._

_The Dublin Messenger will follow this case for the public's knowledge. We want answers and we want the Butcher tried!_

_…._

Ah, so boring.

Sitting in a cell, sitting, sitting and sitting.

A clang announced some company. Some guards led him to an interrogation room.

A blond woman sat down opposite to him and began firing off questions.

Who he was, why was he doing this, does he have any comrades, does he want come with the People?

He smiled at her and she smiled back.

"As if." He said.

….

_ THE BUTCHER ESCAPES!_

_The Dublin Butcher has escaped yesterday and has taken the lives of 4 personal with him…._

_Continued on Page 9._

_….._

1 year.

A long time.

He smiled as he walked to his home, but frowned when he felt pain in his leg and saw stars.

In the corner of his eye he saw a scaly creature with what only could be described as a smirk on it's ugly mug.

Black.

….

5 years.

The house of ravens was a house of pain, something that he realized on the first day.

But it doesn't have to be just for him, he thought as he sliced open a man's chest.

….

10 years.

Long, long ago he lost all senses of humanity, emotions, empathy, guilt.

As Bones Doctor put the finishing touch in his think pan he can finally say that in body and in mind.

He was a monster.

Isn't that nice?

…..

14 years.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHA.

In a nutshell.

….

15 years.

Hello there~~~~

Hehe.

Isn't this madness beautiful?

(**Oh my flippen flying gog. Almost 6 flippen pages. I am ready to be taken away. 0 – 0 ) **


End file.
